


Four Words

by graysonsflight



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graysonsflight/pseuds/graysonsflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All my life, I have hated four word sentences. They change everything. Four words, and your life gets flipped upside-down.  Just four stupid words, and everything you ever wanted, everything you ever thought you wanted, can disappear.  Four isn’t like three. I love you.  I hate you. I need you. I am sorry. All of those are definite, possibilities even, whatever.  They fill you up with amazement, and angry and regret, and that’s all well and good.  But three words has nothing on four words. I have also always thought it was funny, the things we choose to get worked up about, the things we remember, and when we choose to remember them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of short stories that make up a whole. I'm going to be posting it in four parts. I have always wanted to get inside of Dick Grayson - and this was my chance to do it. Thanks for reading! Enjoy.

_You’re Not Ready Yet_

 

_You’re not ready yet._ My parents would tell me that when I begged them to let me fly in the final stunt.  In fact, those are the words my mother said to me on the night she died.  I had been practicing with them all week, the net always carefully drawn across the ground, just in case.  We had actually worked me into it – added the final Flying Grayson into our grand finale.  I hadn’t missed a single catch or fly through that whole week, and I was so excited to finally be included. 

            There in Gotham, I would show the world that I was more than just some runt.  I didn’t care that I was only nine years old, I knew that I was ready.  I was ready to do what I had been born to do.  I was going to fly above the ground, all of those ritzy businessmen would stare in awe, because in nine years, I had accomplished more than they ever would.  But that day, my mother had said no.  She went and told my father she didn’t feel right about it, and then she came and broke the news to me.  _You’re not ready yet._ She had said, smiling as she pushed my hair out of my eyes. 

            I was angry, and I was hurt.  I felt like my mom didn’t trust me.  That young, I didn’t have the sense to know that my mom was just afraid.  _She_ wasn’t ready for me to put myself in that much danger.  I went through with my part in the act.  I was just barely able to focus my energy enough to channel it into something useful.  I was determined that I would show her I was ready.  Mid act, I even added in two extra releases, giving myself just a little bit more danger since she was determined to deny me the full thrill. 

            If she had been given the opportunity, she would have chewed me out for being so irresponsible.  I was only proving her point; that I wasn’t ready yet.  I was too young and too headstrong.  But she never got that chance.  My mom didn’t get to yell at me for being reckless because some thug decided to kill my family to prove a point.  The truth is I should have died that night.  I should have been out in the air, without a net, crashing to the hard ground just like they did.  But I wasn’t.  Because my mother wasn’t ready to let me go.

 

_You’re Not Strong Enough_

 

            I argue with myself.  I argue with my self all the time.  It isn’t normal, and it probably isn’t healthy, but I still do it.  Everyday, I am surrounded by people with these amazing powers.  I watch them, I learn from them, I fight along side of them.  But I constantly worry that I’m not enough.  When push comes to shove, I am terrified that something is going to happen. I’m going to be the only one left, or the only one there, and I’m going to be asked to do something that I just can’t do.  I don’t have magic like Kaldur.  I don’t have shape shifting abilities and telepathy like M’gann.  I will never be as fast as Wally on his slowest day.  And I could never even dream of doing the things that Connor can do.  I am just human, and some days, I feel completely helpless.  Even Artemis just exudes this confidence – even when she’s scared and busy fighting her own demons, she manages to pull things together.  Whenever its counted, I have never seen her miss a shot. 

            I’ve been able to do it so far.  I don’t feel like I’ve failed them yet, but what if?  What if it comes down to it, and I’m the only one left?  _You’re not strong enough._ I hear it in my head over and over again; no matter how hard I try to tune it out. 

            What if I’m not?  What if I never will be?  Hell, after Kaldur died in that stupid simulation, I was freaking out.  I knew what had to be done; we had to stick to the mission.  We had to save the world, but it felt so impossible, like there was barely anything left to save.  I don’t care if it was a simulation, one where I was suppose to keep failing, I should have been able to do something.  And I did.  I went and got everyone killed.  I get to be a leader, and everyone dies.

 

 

_We Need To Talk_

 

_We need to talk._   I could hear his voice echoing off the walls of the Batcave, and I could feel my heart sinking into my stomach.  I had heard those words before.  Always said by some girl who finally decided what I had known before I even started dating her: that our relationship wasn’t going to work out.  But coming from Bruce it carried this sickening finality. 

            _Look_ , he said.  _You’re getting older.  You don’t always follow my rules and my orders. Half of those rules exist as a way to keep you safe.  They are there to keep you alive. Just look at what happened tonight._ He was right.  I’d gotten to that rebellious stage in my teen years where I started doubting that everything that came out of his mouth was truth and perfect.  More than that, I had started taking things into my own hands. 

            I wasn’t as quick with a solid punch as he was, I was chattier, hoping to convince the bad guys to slip up and spill – instead of being the threatening presence Batman had always been.  And I had also started this annoying habit of thinking I was invincible, because I was seventeen, and that’s what stupid seventeen year olds do.  Tonight, I stupidly ran into the middle of gunfire.  God only knows what I was thinking, because I certainly don’t have any idea.  But because I had to get there first, I had to beat him to something.  I let myself get careless.  Batman had been about two steps behind me: just enough to kick out my legs, drop me to the ground, and keep me from getting shot.  But even as I over analyzed everything I had done that evening, Bruce was still talking, looking more exhausted than I had seen him in years. 

            _Dick, you can’t keep this up.  You’re head isn’t in Gotham anymore.  I don’t think you can handle being a part of two teams.  You need to step down as Robin._   Absolute blind rage flashed through my mind, but some how, I was able to keep it in check.  At least long enough for him to explain that I should pick a new name, and dedicate my time full to the Team.  He even promised that he would back off, that I could be in full command. 

            I listened, I nodded, and I seethed.  I was already planning on looking for someplace else to live.  I didn’t care that he was right.  If he didn’t want me as Robin, then I didn’t want to live here.  I calmly agreed with everything he said.  And then I went to my room, punched a few holes into the drywall, and angrily cried myself to sleep.

 

_You’re Not My Brother_

 

            I knew the kid was going to be trouble as soon as Bruce introduced us.  He had a quick tongue, and an even faster punch.  In fact, I think he threw about five punches at me that first time.  He connected with two of them.  And left some pretty serious bruises.  But he grew on me, even after he “accidentally” dislocated my shoulder in a training exercise.  I knew he needed me, even if he didn’t realize it yet. So I just kept showing up.  Bruce and I were doing okay.  Sometimes, he and I were still a little awkward because our relationship had changed.  He was forced to treat me a little bit more like an adult, and I was forced to realize he had a new Boy Wonder. 

             I tried really hard not to fight with Bruce in front of Jay.  I even convinced Bruce to let me borrow the new Robin for a handful of missions with the team; I told him I thought it would be good for the kid to get to work with other people his own age.  And for the most part, it was.  But dear God, did he get on my nerves.  Sometimes, I swear he was doing it on purpose. 

            Jason wasn’t very good at following orders. In fact there were a few times I’m fairly certain he jumped the gun just so the team would be forced to engage with the bad guys.  It was after one of _those_ missions, one in which both Kid Flash and Rocket got a little too banged up, I decided I needed to have a chat with Jason.  _What the hell were you thinking, Jay?_ I had demanded after following him into his room and slamming the door shut. 

            _You have to call me_ Robin _here,_ Dick _.  The mission was a success.  We got the intel, stopped the baddies, and everyone came back alive.  What more do you want?_  

            I was pissed.  I couldn’t even begin to understand how he thought Wally with a concussion, and Rocket with a couple of broken ribs was still a perfectly acceptable outcome.  He just couldn’t seem to understand my need to keep everyone safe.  _Look, Robin._ I said, finally getting my heart rate down and my anger under control.  _You may be my brother, but these guys are my friends.  If you keep putting them in danger, I can’t let you be a part of this team._   

            I will never be able to forget the way he looked at me, his eyes so full of contempt as he shrugged.  _You’re not my brother._ The way he said it so easily, no anger, no sadness, no anything, hurt me more than any punch he had ever landed.  And then he pushed past me, knocking me into the wall on his way out the door.

 

_Your Brother is Dead_

 

            My relationship with Jason had always been touch and go.  The truth was we fought all the time, just like real brothers do.  And just like real brothers, when it came down to it, I would have moved mountains for him if I could have.  We had just started really figuring this family thing out.  Every other weekend or so, we would meet up, without Bruce or Alfred, and we would just do normal brother stuff.  We’d go to the movies, or go rock climbing.  We would hit up every sketchy looking diner from Gotham to Happy Harbor.  And of course we still argued, and occasionally these arguments would get physical, but I think that was half the fun. 

            I will never forget the day he looked at me, absolute mischief radiating back at me in a pair of green eyes. _Hey, I take it back okay?_ He said it like I was supposed to know what the hell he was talking about.  Like it had fit perfectly in with our conversation about how the Gotham Knights were clearly going to be the Metropolis Metros this year.  But I was stumped.  _What horror are you taking back this time?_ I asked.  He squinted his eyes and turned away from me, suddenly very interested in the ice cream melting onto his hands.  _When I said you weren’t my brother._ He answered, still not looking up.  I had smiled, and probably bumped him with my shoulder.  I never told him how much that had meant to me.  It hadn’t seemed like the right thing to do at the time, while he was busy being embarrassed.  But then I never got the chance. 

            Bruce and I had had another fight, I had said something completely stupid, and Jason had over heard.  I had called him my replacement.  It was stupid.  I had been pissed at Bruce, and I had never meant it to be something Jason heard – I hadn’t even meant it at all.  I had never actually seen him that way.  But none of that mattered, because before I got the chance to apologize, the two of them were gone to some foreign country to fight some stupid bad guy, who turned out not to be that stupid at all.  Just crazy. 

            I knew when they were supposed to be back, and I was bound and determined to be there.  I had to talk to Jason; I had to explain to him that I was sorry. That I was an ass, and that I would do anything to make it up to him.  Alfred met me at the door, hugging me before I even made it over the threshold.  I knew then that something was wrong; I just didn’t want to admit it.  _Hey, Alfred, good to see you too.  I know he probably doesn’t want to see me, but where’s the kid?  I have to talk to him._

Alfred pulled away from me, and it was then that I noticed that his hair was a mess and his eyes were rimed with angry red streaks.  _I am so sorry, Master Richard._ He said, shaking his head.  _Your brother is gone._ I remember laughing, gently pushing my way further into the manor.  _Come on, Al,_ I said.  _What did he do this time, run away?_ But Alfred grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me, just a little.  He knew.  Alfred knew that I knew what he meant.  Just like he knew I couldn’t handle it. 

            _I’m sorry,_ he whispered, this time pulling me into a tight hug.  _Your brother is dead._ He tried to tell me that Bruce was in the cave, and that the two of us should probably talk, or that he would sit with me if I wasn’t ready to go see Bruce, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t do any of that.  I turned on my heels and left.  I hopped onto my bike, keyed into the engine and then drove away far faster than I should have.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re Their Leader Now. We Can’t Be Together. You’re Just Like Him. I’ll follow You Anywhere.  
> Four more sentences - four words each.

_You’re Their Leader Now_

 

            I panicked.  I knew I shouldn’t have panicked, and I absolutely should not have yelled at my friends later because I panicked.  But I did.  The mission had been a complete and total failure.  Miss M got hurt, Connor got pissed. Artemis got pissed, and Tim, on his very first mission out with me, got shaken like a rag doll and thrown off a bridge.  If Kaldur hadn’t been there to fish him out, he probably would have drowned. 

            All because when push came to shove, I couldn’t make the call.  I couldn’t figure out fast enough if the right answer was “yes, go put yourself in danger,” or “no, stay here, and I’ll be right back.” I couldn’t do what I have been trained to do since I was nine years old.  And because I couldn’t lead, my team, my _friends_ got hurt. 

            I could feel him standing behind me before he ever said a word, and I pushed my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose before turning towards him.  _Forgive me, Nightwing,_ he said with a very sympathetic smile. _I do not wish to intrude._ I sat back into my chair, pulling the glasses off. _Kaldur, please, call me Dick, or Richard or Grayson or whatever.  Just not Nightwing.  Not right now._ I watched him push the door of my sparsely furnished room in the cave shut.  He sat down on the edge of the tiny bed, turning to face me.  _I am sorry today did not go as planed._

            That’s all he said.  I screw up, I freeze, and this guy, who has lead this team for more than three years and has only just started backing off, tells me he’s sorry.  I couldn’t even begin to wrap my mind around what he had to be sorry for. _What?_ Chatty me, and only one word comes out.  _I’m sorry that today mission did not go as you had wanted it to.  I know you’re upset, and you’re worried that the others are upset with you.  But, it will pass._

            Kaldur had been a good leader, and a great person to look up to.  He had tried to be more like a brother to us, and I’m not sure I ever fully thanked him for it.  _I messed up._ I told him, not feeling brave enough to meet his gaze.  _I messed_ _up._ Iflinched slightly as he put his warm hand on my shoulder. _I understand your fears and your worries, Dick._ _But you are ready._ I shake my head.  _I don’t think that’s true…maybe you…_ I flinch again when I hear him start to laugh, and I finally man up and look him in the eyes.  _You’re their leader now._ He tells me.  _You are my leader._   He pulls me in for a quick hug I hadn’t even realized I had wanted.  _You will make more mistakes,_ he said, pulling back.  _But you will learn, and we will follow you.  You were made to lead._

 

_We Can’t Be Together_

 

            I smile, breathing in the sent of the beautiful girl laying beside me.  Her cape and cowl, my mask, are scattered, forgotten on the floor with the rest of our uniforms.  I breathe deeper, taking in the smell of peach shampoo, and the coffee just starting to brew in the kitchen.  _Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,_ I tease, shifting my weight so I can look into her stunning blue eyes.  But as I do, I realize something is wrong.  She doesn’t look like she just woke up; she looks like she never slept. 

            _What’s wrong?_ I ask, pulling back so that I can sit up and face her properly.  _We can’t keep doing this._ She whispers, not moving from the bed, and not meeting my eyes.  _What are you talking about?_ I try to laugh, try to turn her face towards me, but she won’t look.  She pulls herself away, already reaching for the bottom drawer of my dresser, where she keeps her things.  She starts pulling on her set of spare clothes, and then starts emptying the drawer, dumping it all into one of empty backpacks.  _Babs, what are you doing?_ I’m on my feet next to her faster than she expected, and she has to close her eyes before she’ll look up at me. 

            _Dick, we can’t keep doing this.  You have to know that._ Her eyes look cold, but I can tell she’s faking it.  Knowing her as long as I have, I can always tell when she’s lying.  _And what is it we’re doing?_ I ask.  _Acting like we’re dating,_ she answers simply, tossing me my pants.  _We’re not dating,_ she says.  Like she has to remind me.  _That’s not my fault,_ I tell her, cinching my pants at my waist.  _I have asked you to go out with me half a million times, and you always say no. So here I go again. Go out with me._ It isn’t a question anymore; I say it like it’s a statement, because I already know she’s going to turn me down.  _Go out with me.  Be with me.  Stay with me._   She keeps her back turned me the whole time. 

            We’ve been through this all before.  _No._ I reach out, grabbing hold of her hand and pull her towards me, my fingers dipping under her chin, finally forcing her to look me in the eyes.  _Why not?_ I ask, my lips hovering just above hers, but she pulls away. 

            _Which answer do you want?_ She asks, exhausted.  _We can’t be together.  Anytime we go into a mission, a fight, hell patrol, you get distracted.  You’re so worried about me getting hurt that you let yourself get careless.  I am not some damsel in distress._

            Ah yes, reason number one.  _Barbara, don’t.  You know I don’t think you’re a damsel in distress.  You’re one of the most badass women I know. I know you can handle yourself.  You watch my back, and I watch yours, that’s just how we operate._ She sighs impatiently, beginning to pick up the pieces of her uniform.  _Then we’ll always put ourselves in danger._   I move around her, standing in her way, picking up her cape before she can get to it.  _What else you got, Babs?  Because I know that isn’t it._   I want to scream at myself at this point.  I’m playing her game, giving into her argument, ready for reason number two.

            _You’re always happy_ , she tells me, glaring at the cape in my hands.  _Or always pretending to be. You take all of your emotions and you bottle them up in side_.  I hand her the cape reluctantly.  _I do not._ I whisper back.  _I don’t pretend like you do._ I accuse.  _I don’t pretend that I don’t love you.  I love you Barbara Gordon, I have never pretend not to._   She shakes her head pulling away.  _That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.  You won’t talk about Bruce, how the two of you still sometimes fight and how you’re still trying to prove yourself to him.  You won’t talk about the fact that you still miss your parents, that you still have nightmares about them, don’t bother denying it, I’ve heard them.  And anytime I try and bring up Jay, all you do is change the subject._   It’s my turn to look away.  I can feel my cheeks getting hot.  I won’t deny anything she’s said because it’s true.  We both know it’s true.

              _I can’t be the only one who is vulnerable in this relationship, Richard._ I flinch at the use of my full name – a habit she’s picked up lately when she’s pissed.  _I talk to you about missing my mom, about being worried for my dad, about my brother, all of it.  I can’t be the only one to open up._   I can feel her eyes on my back, burning holes into me.  But true to form, I can’t handle it.  If I open up, I won’t be able to close it off again.  I won’t be able to escape my own fears, and my own failures.  So I do exactly what she’s already accused me of; I change the subject.

            _None of that is about you and me._ I tell her, ignoring everything.  _Give me one good reason about you and me, that we can’t be together._   I watch as she runs her hands over her face.  She hitches my backpack up over her shoulders as she heads towards the door, resignation in every step.

            _We can’t be together,_ she tells me, her fingers already twisting the handle.  _You love me._   I cringe at the sound of my own voice, part accusation, part desperation.  _Not like you want me to._ I can feel the lie, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.  _Not even just a little bit?_ I ask, the desperation taking over.  She turns to face me with her body already half way out the door.  

            _No._

 

_You’re Just Like Him_

 

            I knew he’d come through my open door before he said anything.  The kid had gotten much, much better at this being a ninja thing Bruce drilled into all of us.  But I had had the same teacher, and I’d been doing it longer.  Knowing someone had entered your space was a part of the training too.  I didn’t need to look up, so I kept my nose buried in the notes.  The bad guys were planning something, and it was going to be big.  I just needed to figure it out. He stands there for a long time before he finally speaks.  _You need any help?_ I briefly consider pretending that I was startled because I wanted him to know he was getting better, but he he’s too smart for his own good – he would have known I was pandering.  I keep scrolling through, shaking my head. 

_I’m okay, Tim._ I tell him, but he and I both know that I am lying through my teeth.  I haven’t been “okay,” since Bruce left and shit started getting way more real than I was ready for.  I can hear his sharp intake of breath; I can almost feel him weighing his options.  I adore the kid, I do, but sometimes I wish he would speak his mind just a little faster. 

_What’s up, Timmy?_ I ask, finally turning to face him.  He had taken his shades off; he wouldn’t have been able to see a thing in here if he’d kept them on.  It had been a while since I turned the lights on.  He moved slowly even closer towards me, sneaking glances at what I left up on the vid screens.

_It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?_ He asks, his eyes following the three different escape routes I’d traced on a map.  I shrug, turning to flip the screens down.  I don’t need him to worry about this.  He worries about so much all ready.  He isn’t even sixteen years old, and he already carries the weight of the world.

_Dick,_ he says, honestly, all most desperately.  _I can help, or at least I can try._ I try to smile at him, really I do.  He’s a genius, and I know it.  And truth be told he could help – and I know it.  But more than that, I know what it would do to him if something in his plans went wrong.  I can deal with the guilt of failure, or at least I can make myself deal with it.  But I will not allow Tim to have that kind of stress on him.  Even if it was someone else’s fault – Tim would blame himself.

_No,_ I whisper, a bit more harshly than I had intended to because I see him flinch just a little.  _No,_ I try again.  _I know you can, Tim, but I’ve got this._   He nods his head in understanding, but I can tell he’s hurt.

_You’re just like him,_ he says with a nod.  I can hear the reverence in his voice as he says it; whoever this _him_ is, Tim says it like it’s an honor.  I run a hand through my hair, with a little bit of a smile on my face.

_Like Batman,_ he answers as if it’s obvious.  _I mean, the way you can do everything for the mission, it’s amazing.  Your focus, your drive._ He laughs just a little bit with a wave of his hand.  _I mean even the way you think in the dark._   I look around me, and feel my stomach dropping.  I am.  I am just like him.  I want to scream.  I want to slam this door shut and run away as fast as I can.  I knew Tim meant it as a compliment, I can see it in the set of his eyes.  He’s proud of me, no matter how ashamed I feel.

I stand up from my chair, pull him into a hug, laughing as I feel him stiffen before giving into it.  There.  That’s something Bruce wouldn’t have done.

_Go,_ I tell him with a light push.  _Garth’s been feeling a little down lately – see if you can get him to play some videogames or something._ Tim smiles back at me hesitantly.

_You sure?_

I nod to send him on his way, smiling as I watch him leave the door.  As soon as he’s gone, I flip the lights on and push the door shut.  I struggle hard to control the way my body shakes.  _I will not become The Batman._

 

_I’ll Follow You Anywhere_

_Dude, this is nuts._  Wally shook his head at me as he pulled himself up from the kitchen table.  _First, you drag Artemis into this mess, and now you want me to help clean it up?_   I would almost believe he was pissed at me, but I can see the bit of mischief in his eyes. 

            _Yeah, but this is endgame, KF, we do this – we save the world, and it’s done._   He laughs at me then, his hand ruffling through my hair, just like he use to when we were kids. 

            _Dick, this will never be over and you know it._   I catch him staring out the window before he heaves a huge sigh.  _Just let me make sure I know what’s going on here: We go in, we brake up their little party, grab Artemis and Kaldur, and then we blow everything up?_   I shrug, moving to stand next to him again. 

            _Yeah, that’s the general idea._ I can’t admit to him how nervous I feel, how badly my stomach has twisted into knots at this idea.  But, it’s the only one we have.  _Look, Wally... if you don’t want to do this… I get it.  You got out for a reason, and I’ve already done too much to drag you back into this mess._   Wally turns to look at me, shaking his head. 

            _Dick, I don’t always like the choices you make as leader, but they’re the ones that have to be made.  Besides, you already know what my answer is going to be._   He picks up his duffle bag, swinging it effortlessly onto his shoulder.  _Where you go, I go.  You’re my best friend.  I’ll follow you anywhere._

            We use the bioship to head back to the Watchtower.  Neither one of us say anything.  There isn’t much let to say.  Basically, by agreeing to come with me, Wally has confirmed one of my biggest fears.  I am terrified that the people following me into this battle trust me way too much.  Wally has been my best friend for years.  He has been the guy I could admit everything to.  He knows how scared I am in all of this, and he’s playing it completely cool – whistling away as we fly towards what will eventually be a battle where people could get seriously hurt – where people could actually die.

            He’s all ready yelled at me for this; all ready lit into me about putting the girl he loves in danger, and he stopped talking to me for about two weeks when she first went in under cover.  But still he trusts me.  He is still willing to put his life on the line for some greater good, and still trusting that I can deliver everyone home safe.  At this point, I think there’s a good chance we’re all pretty screwed.


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all my fault. Please Just Say Something.

_It’s All My Fault_

 

            Nothing has gone right on this mission.  All around me, members of my team, my friends, my _family,_ are getting hurt.  Each and every one of them is fighting bravely, knowing just like I do that the fate of the freakin world is resting on the shoulders of a bunch of people – half of whom can’t even legally drive yet.  I won’t call them kids, because no true _kid_ could be locked in a battle with an alien race for the soul of their planet.  No one fighting here today should ever be called a child again.  I catch Tim out of the corner of my eye distracting a horde of Reach operatives, trying to give Bart enough time to recover after being thrown across this underground cave by a Reach operative.

            Within ten minutes of this battle starting, most of the Light was gone, leaving us, the Reach, and a whole lot of explosives in the same room.  After someone almost got a piece of Wally, Artemis couldn’t take it any longer.  She knew she’d get her cover blown during this mission, but took matters into her own hands – ripping off the necklace to stand by his side.  I can’t say I blame her. It did however, create enough of a distraction for me to get a look at the explosives.  Right now, we have about fifteen minutes before this whole place goes up. 

This has got to be the dumbest thing that I have ever done.  Everyone here is in danger.

            Barbara flies past me, bringing her foot into the face of the Reach Guard who was apparently just about to run me though with his spear.  _Get your head in the game, Nightwing!_ She screams.  And she’s right.  I need to find a way to end this, all of this.  _It is all my fault._

            None of them should even be here.  I picked this location on some weak intel – the best Kaldur could sneak me, but still pretty weak.  I knew there was a chance it would get bad – but I made the cal anyway.  I look down at the timer I’ve set into my suit’s writ screen – twelve minutes.  Twelve minutes, and we’re all toast.  I don’t think anyone else has any idea about what’s going on.

            My body starts moving on pure instinct, hands, feet, arms, legs, moving though the motions I need to attack and defend, sneaking my way closer and closer to the little gift the Light chose to leave their one time partner.  We didn’t hear enough about the argument before we crashed this party – but enough to know the Reach had decided enough was enough – their bid for complete control would have started today.

            This is my fault.  If had been smarter, if I had been better, if had been more like Bruce, I would have realized that we were potentially walking into a trap.  It’s all my fault.  So it’s up to me to fix it.

            I catch Kaldur’s eye as I finally make it back to the explosives.  _Cover me!_ And he does without question.  After all I’ve put him through, all the pain I have asked him to endure, he still follows me without hesitation.  I try calming my nerves enough to look around, to completely assess the situation, trying desperately to remain relaxed.  _Get traught, or get dead,_ I whisper to myself.  I will not be the reason my team doesn’t make it back alive.  And that’s when I see it.  There’s an access panel tucked into the side of the wall, my eyes travel up to the roof of this doomed cave.  All around there are thick metal lines – emergency walls tucked into what I’d mistaken for solid rock.

            If I can get them all past a few of those safety hatches, I could bring them down, and then the explosion could trap the Reach’s warships here, putting the nail in the coffin of any Earth conquering plans they’d had.  I call out to Miss M with my mind all while glancing down at my timer.  Ten minutes, I’m going to have to make this quick.  I let her in on as much of the plan as I can – the only parts I actually have worked out all the way.  She catches my eye from about twenty feet away and nods.  I can hear her in my head as she starts letting everyone know that it’s time to go – and time to go fast.

            As soon as I get my hands on the control panel I smile.  I might just be able to get them all out of here.  The walls start to sake as the metal emergency panels start groaning into place.  I can see everyone up a head of me starting to run to safety – they just need to make it past three doors – three doors and everyone will be safe.  I wait until the last possible minute before I start running.  _Three minutes._

            I make it past one door just before it clanks shut – but one won’t be enough to stop the explosion.  The second door almost seems like it’s waiting for me as I sprint past it.  Up a head I can see some of the others – Barbara and Wally mostly, glancing back to make sure I’m still behind them.  _Go!_ I scream – hoping they can still hear me over all the chaos.  Even Tim tries to look back once, almost tripping and crashing into the floor before Superboy can catch him and send him back into a run. 

            The third door is sticking as I sprint through it, and that’s when everything goes to hell.  I can feel the world around me starting to shake as the explosives start going off – a full sixty-eight seconds before they should have.  The heat is stating to build, and that’s when I turn.  The third won’t close.  And that’s when I do the dumbest thing I have ever done – I turn around and start spiriting the other way.  I have to get that door closed – I have to make sure they’re all going to be safe.  I brought them into this and I will be damned if any of them get hurt because I screwed up a hack.  Just as I’m about to reach the door, it manages to creak itself half way shut – and in that instant I realize that it isn’t quite going to be enough.  I feel the world around me spin as the reactive force of the explosion lifts me off my feet.  There’s no fire – just bits and pieces of metal door and jagged rocks.  It’s all I feel as the debris rains down on me all I feel before -

 

 

_Please Just Say Something_

 

            I have done stupid things in the past.  I have done reckless things that have put the people I care about most in danger.  I have been a bad leader who couldn’t act fast enough.  I have been like him, knowing that as a leader, you ask others to do, while you lead, because a good leader still has to be around to lead whatever is left.  But not anymore.  I will not be that kind of a leader. 

            Was it stupid for me to be the one to take a step forward?  For me to be the one to try and close that stupid door, to control that explosions?  Me, without any superpowers, or super strength or super anything?  Yeah, it was stupid.  But it kept them all safe.  And that is enough. 

            I find it funny that now, while flipping back and forth between consciousness and unconscious, too bright colors and too black darkness, is when I try to understand bits and pieces of my life.  It’s not like I can even focus for that long.  Everything hurts.  My back, my ribs, even my fingertips hurt. 

            I’m not afraid of pain; it’s what reminds us that we’re still alive.  Bruce taught me that.  He told me that if you can still feel the pain, then you’re going to be just fine and there’s no reason to panic.  He taught me how to fight my body’s natural instinct to go into shock, taught me how to consciously slow the beating of my heart to limit the number of breathes that I have to take in order to survive, because that’s what you do in war, you survive.  And I am trying desperately to focus on those lessons, but my brain keeps trying to think about four word sentences.  Which doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.  Not right now. 

            I watch as a blurring mass of black and orange and yellow comes towards me.   Artemis, in a uniform that after today she’s probably going to burn, with the clocking charm removed and her blonde hair swirling all around her.  _Is he…?_ I think its Wally asking, but I have no idea where he came from – maybe he was the yellow?  _He’s still breathing._ She answers. I can tell she is trying to sound hopeful and I can feel her hands pressing against my chest, my neck, my arms, and my face.  I am trying really hard to keep my eyes open, to tell Wally that I’m going to be fine. 

            Because I am, I’m going to be just fine.  _Nightwing._ She prods, fingers finding every piece of metal that has lodged itself in my skin.  _Come on, Nightwing, bring it back.  Focus._   I try to answer her.  I can feel words stuck in my throat.  _That’s it, say anything. Come on._   She’s begging me to talk, which normally a pretty girl, even my best friend’s girlfriend asks me to talk – and I can’t shut up, but I just can’t get my vocal cords to work. 

            Wally is bending down beside me.  I can see his hand pressing against something black covered in blood.  Is there someone else here? I start to panic just a little, feeling my blood starting to move too fast. Barbara?  Tim? No, I made sure they were all back far enough away. I made sure of it. I breathe in deep, working to slow everything down, willing myself to be calm, and trying to focus on what Wally is doing. It takes me a few seconds to realize he is pressing down on _my_ leg, and I can’t feel it.  I can’t feel my leg. 

            The panic starts again, grabbing me, tearing into my lungs.  I can’t feel it.  My heart begins to race, and I know, _I know_ , I’m doing it wrong.  I’m only letting my heart beat faster, which only lets my blood go faster to my leg, which _I can’t feel._    _No, no!_ Artemis demands, she knows what’s going on, and she can see me looking down at Wally who, from what I can see is trying to stop the bleeding.  _Damn it, damn it!  Kid! He’s starting to go into shock.  You need to press that down tighter._  

            Wally nods, but I can barely see it, even with my eyes open, everything is starting to darken.  _Somebody get me something to tie this with!_ He screams, his voice harsh and loud in my ears.  _Right here, Dick._ Artemis says snapping her fingers in my face. _Focus on me, breathe with me, nice and slow._ She is trying so hard, but I can hear the fear creeping into her voice. _Please just say something._ Artemis begs me, tilting my head away so I can’t watch whatever Wally is doing to my leg.  I open my mouth, ashamed of what I hear squeaking out – frightened and childlike: _I’m…scared…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one part left :) Thanks for reading.


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's So Much Blood. Please Don't Leave Me.

 

_There’s So Much Blood_

 

            My hands are covered in blood.  My hands are covered in my best friend’s blood.  I am trying desperately to apply pressure, watching as Artemis keeps trying to get Dick to focus on her, instead of on me.  I have to fight back the urge to vomit.  Superboy is next to me almost as soon as I call out for something to tie Nightwing’s leg with.  I can tell as soon as he hands it to me that it is part of Robin’s cape. 

            I look up to see that Miss M and Beast Boy are trying to keep Robin back.  The poor kid is freaking out, and I can’t blame him.  I’m freaking out. _Sups?_ I ask, my voice shaking.  Connor looks at me, questioning, almost like he is afraid to get too close to Nightwing, like his presence alone could make the situation worse.  _I’m going to need you to use that super brain of yours and real quick see if you ever learned how to tie a tourniquet._ I watch as he closes his eyes for a second, breathing in as he searches his memories.  _Ye…yeah._ He says, still looking uncertain.  _But, it’s supposes to be worse case scenario, I mean if I do this wrong, he could lose his –_ I cut him off with a shake of my head, willing him not to say out loud that Dick could lose his leg. 

            I remembered one time when I had gone up to Wayne Manor to visit him after he had recently had the crap beaten out of him by one of Gotham’s best creeps.  Tim was sitting in the room with him, looking scared.  _We had to stop giving him medicine for the pain._ Tim told me.  _Doc gave him morphine, just a little bit so he could sleep, and it made him sick._ Dick had laughed a little then, opening his eyes, glassy with pain.  _Thanks Timmy, I really appreciate you telling Wally that._   But Tim had just shrugged, given Dick a very thoughtful look and walked slowly from the room. 

            It wasn’t until after Tim was gone that Dick admitted something to me.  _Being sick wasn’t the worst part,_ he’d said.  _The morphine gave me these nightmares.  All the usual bad stuff, people who I love dying.  But in one of them, I dreamed that I lost my leg._ He had seemed so scared when he’s said it – like he was thirteen again, or maybe younger.  And that’s what I thought about now, watching as his blood pooled around me, my hands trying desperately to slow it down.  I didn’t want Superboy to say out loud what Dick was probably already thinking; if he made it through this, his leg might not. 

            Connor bent his head low, close to mine as he reached over to take one of Dick’s escrima sticks, still in its shrunken state, from the pocket on his uniform.  _This will work,_ he told me.  He closed his eyes again, just for a second before looking back to me and my bloody hands.  _There’s so much blood…_ he breathed, wiping his hands down the side of his torn shirt before starting to line up the scrap from Robin’s cape.  _You have to tie it tight,_ I remind him, pressing down even harder on the open wound.  _What if…what if it’s too much?_ Connor asks me.  His eyes flicker up to Artemis, holding Dick’s face in her hands, trying to keep him conscious and keep him calm. 

            Then I saw him raise his head quickly to see Batgirl running towards us.  Someone must have finally told her what had happened.  I didn’t envy that person in the slightest.  _Do it now, Sups, the sooner the better.  Just do it._ He nods, twisting the fabric around the damaged appendage, pulling it tight as he slips the metal escrima into place.  His hands are covered in blood now too.  We both wince as we hear Dick trying frantically to choke back a sob. 

            Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we saved the world and all, but staring helplessly as my best friend is possibly dying in front of me, I realize this was never a war we should have been fighting.

 

 

_Please Don’t Leave Me_

 

            His breathing is shallow and his pulse is weak.  I have no way of knowing whether it’s because of his training or because he is actually dying.  I watch as his blue eyes flutter open and closed over and over again.  I try to keep my face calm as I smile down at him.  Slowly, I lower my lips to his temple, placing a short kiss against an old scar.  _Please don’t leave me,_ I whisper. 

            I can see Wally grabbing hold of M’gann’s shoulders, unintentionally leaving red fingerprints on her.  He’s telling her that she has to get the rest of the team home, that she has to be the leader, and she looks terrified – her eyes darting down to Dick and back to the group of weary, beaten, and scared kids who just grew up a lot faster than any of them should have had to.  He is telling her to take them back, find a way up to the Watchtower, that we’ll, Artemis, him and me, will find a way.  That’s all he says, _a way_ , because no one can voice what we’re all thinking.  None of us can admit out loud that there is a very real possibility that Dick Grayson is going to die.  We’ll take the jet Alfred only just recently cleared me to fly, and we’ll take him home where Alfred and Doctor Thompkins will be waiting. 

            I feel a hand on my shoulder and hastily push my palm into my eye to wipe back any of the tears too stubborn to stay where they were.  _Babs…_ It’s Tim.  Of course it is.  All of these other young heroes are standing back, afraid as they see their leader, or their friend, the guy who just ran out ahead of everyone to push a giant metal safety door closed so that none of us would get hit with the jagged bits of steel and glass, covered in his own blood.  But for Tim it’s worse.  This is his brother.  _Robin,_ I whisper.  Even with his mask on, I can tell how scared he is, and I make a decision, the one that hurts, but the one I know Dick would have made.  _Robin, you have to go with your team._

The rest of them are starting to pile up into the Bioship, Wally finally having shaken M’gann out of her fear, accidentally smearing a little more red onto her clothes.  But she is an amazing leader, just the right amount of orders and solaces as she rounds them all up. _No! This is my team too._ Tim yells at me. _This was my team first!_ Nightwing flinches in my lap, his eyes pressed shut, and I can tell he’s trying not to make a sound.  Tim’s eyes fall, staring helplessly.  _This was…he’s…_   I pull Tim, shaking, into me with one arm.  Tim and I both know that he is one precarious step away from losing it.  That he cannot handle this situation, and even though I can feel him crying into my shoulder, I know he is going to go with the rest of the team.  _I will call you as soon as I can._ I promise him, giving him one last squeeze before Garth and Cassie both come for him.  He goes without hesitation, but his eyes stay transfixed on the face of the young man with his head in my lap. 

            They’re gone before I realize that I had been holding my breath. The air jumps from my lungs as I realize Connor is standing next to me, his face grim.  _I’ll get him onto the jet._ He says, scooping Nightwing up from my lap like a ragdoll, but he is careful, his eyes watching the length of Tim’s cape tied tight to Dick’s leg.  I know it was the first time Connor had ever been asked to tie a tourniquet, and he was worried he’d done it too tight. 

            When we get on board, Artemis is already seated in the pilot’s seat.  _Are you sure?_ I stammer, already moving to the back where Connor gingerly set Dick down. _This baby knows its way home.  You stay with him._ I nod, sliding past Wally and into the cramped back. Connor gives Dick one last glance, a just-in-case-good-bye, before jumping down and joining Kaldur, Blue, and Bart on the Supercycle.

_Hey…hey there be…beautiful._ I jump a little, looking down at him, surprised he’d managed to make any noise at all. _Shhh, Dick, not now, you’re going to need your strength._   I hold him tighter as the jet launches itself into the air, Artemis pushing it as fast as it can fly.  He smiles, or tries to, lifting up the left side of his lips.  With my thumb, I brush the blood off of them.  _Wh…when did y-you get here?_ He’s trying.  I have no idea why he’s trying so hard to be funny or cute or whatever the hell it is he’s doing.  I want to scream at him.  I want to shake him, demand to know what the hell he was doing running forward like that.  But instead, I manage a weak laugh.  _A little while,_ I tell him.  _Artemis said you were too much to handle._  

            His eyes close slowly, and I can see the pain twisting across his lips.  When his eyes open again, he looks concerned.  _You… you’re crying…_ he tells me.  I reach my fingers up to wipe away the tears.  I hadn’t even realized it.  _Don’t…don’t cry…_ His voice is getting weaker the more he uses it, and I have to stop myself from sobbing as he tries to reach a hand up to me.  I pull his fingers through mine, stopping him from trying to reach my face.  

_I was wrong._ I tell him, pressing my lips into his gloved hand.  _I was wrong.  I need you.  I love you, and not just a little bit, but a lot._ He smiles weakly up at me.  _I…I know…_ he wheezes.  I reach my other hand down to gently peel the mask from his eyes, slowly pushing the black hair, some of it matted with blood, out of the way.  _Please, don’t leave me._ I beg him selfishly.  I have to stop him from trying to sit up, the hand that had just been on his face quickly moving to hold down a strip of my cape that had been tied loosely to his shoulder, putting pressure on one of the bigger gashs. 

_I’m…I’m trying Babs…_   I nod slowly, bending down to press a kiss to his lips.  _I know, I know_. I tell him.  _I promise, after you’re better, I’ll go on that date.  No matter how corny you make it, I’ll go._ His lips struggle to smile even as his eyes slip shut in pain.  _Good…circus._ He tells me.  I crouch down lower, holding him to me tighter, unable to stop myself from crying into his hair.  I can feel his body shaking, little muscle spasms here and there as the jet starts its decent.  I pray to any gods out there and willing to listen that we aren’t going to be too late.  _Don’t let him die…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thank you very much to everyone who has read - I appreciate it :) I am already thinking out an epilogue - or something like it - we'll see. (Also - I don't own Young Justice or any DC related characters.)


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne returns from Rimbor to hear his son was a hero. That Nightwing’s actions saved the lives of many, but that there was a cost.

            I had taken three steps on to the main deck of the Watchtower when Dinah came up to me.  _You need to go home,_ was all that she would say.  The set of her eyes, the way she was trying not to attract the attention of the others, I knew I would follow her directive without question.  I didn’t even bother to say good-bye; someone else could handle the debriefing.  I used the Zata tube to travel back to the cave.  I was met with silence.  Up stairs was no better; the manor might as well have been a crypt.

            _Master Bruce._ Alfred’s voice cut through the overpowering quiet. 

            _Where are they?_ I asked, using every ounce of willpower I had to keep my voice from shaking.  I had already lost one son.  I had already let him down…if I had to bury another…

            _Bruce!_ Tim’s voice lifted a weight off of my chest.  He sprinted into the room, catching himself before he reached me, standing at full attention.  His eyes were red.  Barbara Gordon followed in after him, her face drawn tight, eyes refusing to meet mine. Two down, one to go.

            _He’s up stairs,_ Barbara whispered.  I scanned them both quickly, catching every bruise and scrape not covered by their clothes.  Cautiously, I ran my hand though Tim’s neatly cut hair, and he smiled weakly back at me. It doesn’t reach his eyes. I moved towards the stairs, removing the cowl, but not bothering with the rest of the uniform.  Barbara followed closely behind me, leaving Tim with Alfred, neither one of them moving to follow. 

            She wove a story for me, of how brave he had been – how he had been a leader – how because of him, the earth was safe, at least for now.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see her swipe away a tear.  _He’s alive,_ she whispered, _but it’s been two days, and he hasn’t woken up._   I nodded, my hand already reaching for the doorknob. She stood next to me, her eyes glancing into the room to the young man…the boy… my son, laying still in his bed.  Tubes and wires crisscrossed his body, bandages covering most of his visible skin.  Only the steady rhythmic beeping of machines let me know he was still alive.

            _It’s about time you showed up,_ a familiar voice called from the far side of the room.  Apparently, Dr. Leslie Thompkins had just finished redressing his bandages.  She turned her attention to Barbara with a sympathetic smile.  _Go Barbara,_ she insisted. _Eat something, child.  And see if you can get Timothy to eat too._   The younger woman sucked in a deep breath – as though she was considering disobeying her orders, but finally she nodded, turned on her heels, and walked back down the wooden corridor.  She was a good soldier.  They were all good soldiers.

            I walked into the room, my eyes scanning everything as quickly as I could.  IVs pumping fluids, oxygen, and more bandages; he was a mess. I looked to Leslie.  At that moment I didn’t care how desperate I looked.  She sighed, running her fingers over Dick’s face, lovingly brushing his sweat soaked bangs back from his eyes.

            _Multiple severe lacerations, some burns, four broken ribs, possible head trauma, and of course his favorite: a dislocated left shoulder.  He lost a lot of blood, and I think there’s going to be some nerve damage to his left leg.  I won’t know more until he wakes up. His friends saved him; it was risky, but if they hadn’t used a tourniquet, he would have bleed out before he even hit my operating table._ She paused, her eyes squinting at the machines around her. _I’ve done everything I can, Bruce._  I watched her spread her fingers, motioning to the room around her. _It’s up to him now._

            I moved to sit in the chair by his bed, slowly, hesitantly, taking his hand.  It was still warm, and I suppose somewhere inside of me, that warmth gave me hope.  Leslie stayed and talked with me a bit longer: Yes, she was giving him antibiotics to help prevent infection.  Yes, he was receiving some medication for pain– no, not morphine- she did remember the last time – and after he was healed, she wanted to do some reconstructive work on his shoulder – but only after everything else was healed. She rested her hand on my shoulder as she turned towards the door.

            _He’ll wake up, Bruce,_ she told me.  _He’s a strong boy – young man now, I suppose, and he had a good teacher._   She told me that she’d be back in a few hours to change out the bandaged again and then she left me alone with the broken body of another boy I had failed.  I had to keep reminding myself that he was still alive – and that I still had an opportunity to make this right.

            I sat there, keeping vigil for two and a half hours.  I watched as his eyes started to twitch before the machines began beeping louder.  Slowly, as if they had been glued shut – two glassy blue eyes began to open.  I moved to stand over him, making sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, like rip out his IV.  It’s what I would have done, after all.  His eyes found mine, and I could feel my heart breaking for the panic that they held.

            _Shhh.  Easy,_ I coaxed, pressing my hands to him, one to his un-bandaged shoulder, the other, to the center of his chest.  I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to remember the night-terrors, or the panic attacks he had had as a child.  He whimpered, and then I saw the anger cross his eyes.  He hated himself for being weak.  For being weak in front of me.  _You’re home_ , I assured him, settling myself back into the chair.

            _So are you,_ he croaked, already trying to push himself up to a seated position.  I wanted to push him back down, tell him to rest, but I could already see him burying his pain, fighting it back to appear strong.  Another trait he’d learned from me – another I wish he hadn’t.

            _Shouldn’t you be someplace important?_ He could hardly bring his voice above a strangled whisper, and it made me wonder about possible smoke damage done to his lungs.

            _I am._

His laughter surprised me. I hadn’t heard him laugh in a long time, and I had never heard it sound this bitter – this defeated. _What about the debriefing?_ He challenged. _And comparing case notes, and…_ I stopped him a firm hand on his own.

            _Someone else can take care of it._

He scrunched his eyes together, and I knew that if he could, he would have had a hand on the back of his neck; his own little calming trick.  _I know I hit my head, but did you get knocked around on Rimbor?_

            _Dick…_

            _No!_   He shouted, straining his voice, and causing some of the machines to quicken their once rhythmic beeping.  _Isn’t it always about the mission?  Isn’t it always everything for the mission? Isn’t it…_

            It stung to have those word thrown at me, it hurt more because I knew why he was saying those things…knew that I had tried to instill those truths within him.  The machines continued to beep getting louder and louder as I was shaken from my guilty thoughts by the sound of his breathing, angry and loud.

_Breathe._ I commanded, pulling him as straight as I could.  When he was younger, nine and ten, when he had first come to live with me, Dick has suffered from acute asthma attacks – triggered by panic.  The stress in his mind tricked his lungs into thinking they weren’t getting enough oxygen, and as a result – they didn’t.  We had spent hours training, practicing on just his breathing as a way to make it stop.  Clearly now, he had forgotten his training.

            _Breathe._ I repeated, trying my best to be soothing.

            _No!_ He barked back, the air squeezing its way from his mouth.  But, with a considerable amount of effort, he was able to regain his control.  He sat there, his blue eyes boring holes into me.  _I still…I still can’t move my leg…it just feels like heat and fire…_

I nodded my head trying my best to understand him.  Dr. Thompkins entered the room not long after, checking his vitals and glancing at the screens.

            _Bruce, if you being here is going to cause a spike like that – then I don’t care that you were the one to wake him up – or that this is your house – I will ban you from this room._   To my surprise, it was Dick that came to my defense.

            _It’s okay Doc.  I’m okay now. I have it under control._   Dr. Thompkins looked doubtful, but asked him a series of questions, adjusted the IVs and then turned her gaze back to me.

            _You get fifteen more minutes.  Nothing more._

            _Doc!_ Dick interrupted, trying his best to give her a smile.  _I’ve been asleep for…how long have I been out for?_

_Two days._ Both Leslie and I answered at once.  Dick took it pretty well, nodding his head, and leaning it back against the headboard as he turned to me.

            _My team?_ He asked.  Dr. Thompkins nodded her head approvingly, backing her way from the room.

            _From what Barbara has told me, everyone is fine._ I could see the relief flooding his face.  _She said there were a lot of cuts and bruises, and a few broken bones – ribs, fingers, a nose, nothing serious._   He stayed quiet for a few minutes, allowing his eyes to close.  I was just about to leave the room when his voice stopped me.

            _Why do we do this?_ His voice sounded small, and young.

            _Why do you think?_ I respond as gently as I can.  His eyes turn to face mine, and for a moment, he isn’t trying to hide his pain.

            _It’s just going to happen again._ Slowly, I regard him, watching as piece by piece he puts his proverbial mask back on.

            _A lot of people are still alive today – and even if they don’t realize it – they are alive because of you._

_It could have been any of us…_ he insists.

            _But it wasn’t._   I remind him.  _It was you.  And I’m sorry that it had to be.  I’m sorry it wasn’t me.  I’m sorry that you were placed into a position where you had to make that kind of choice._

            The slightest hint of a smile, his smile finds its way onto his face.  There’s a force in his smile he doesn’t even know exists, and just that whisper of it starts to warm me.

_I don’t know if I even thought about it as a choice…_

            _And that’s why we do this._ I tell him.  _That is what makes you a hero._

We sit again in relative silence; but this one is comfortable.  I consider telling him to rest, but the sound of his voice stops me again.

            _…Do you ever wonder if your parents would have been…if they’re proud of you…?_   I consider his question seriously, allowing my own small smile to touch my mouth.

            _I don’t know…_ I admit.  _Part of me likes to think that they are._ He nods slowly in response.

            _Me too…_   I place my hand on his undamaged shoulder and force him to meet my eyes.

            _I think that they would have been very proud of you._ I tell him honestly.

            _How do you know?_

_Because I am._ I tell him, hating myself because I am unsure if I have ever told him this before. _I’m proud of you.  I have never been more scared than when one of my sons is hurt.  And I have never been more proud than when one of my sons chooses to do what is the absolute right thing.  And never question, that you are my son. Never question that I’m proud of you._   And I vow, to myself and to him, that I will tell him that more often, and I will tell Tim and Barbara.  I will make sure that they all know how proud they have made me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read :) This was a great experience for me and I hope you enjoyed it.


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